We Can't Go Home
by LookingForMyLastCenturion
Summary: A girl finds herself on board Serenity, with no idea of how she got there. All she knows is she can't get back to where she was. Post BDM, except Wash is alive, because I said so.
1. Chapter 1

For Chelsea Fleming, it was an ordinary day. Or rather, as ordinary as her days had been lately. Her best friend, Andrew, had gone missing without a trace about a week ago. There was no evidence, no witnesses, no word from him. He had simply vanished from their high school parking lot. She missed him, more than anything. Every time something reminded her of him, she wanted to cry. Forest green Ford Expeditions, Wynton Marsalis, those little sushi rolls with carrots and cucumbers instead of fish. Memories she shared with him.

The day was over, for the most part. School was done, all that was left was for her to drive home, do some homework, maybe head to the gym if there was time.

She wasn't paying attention as she crossed the lot to her car. She was fumbling around in her bag for her keys.

She wasn't expecting to have several guns pointing at her when she looked up.


	2. Chapter 2

"Who are you, and what are you doing on my gorram ship?"

Chelsea looked up, alarmed. There were at least five guns pointed at her, held by four different people. She slowly raised her hands and looked around. She was in a dark, industrial corridor, that had definitely been a school parking lot five seconds ago.

The entire group was tall. The man who had spoken was tall and muscular, with blue eyes and messy brown hair. He wore suspenders and boots, and a hip holster. He was flanked by a tall dark skinned woman with curly hair and an unsmiling face, and an even taller, stronger man with an unforgiving face and two guns. And the boy. The tall boy with brown hair and the most striking green eyes she had ever seen.

The boy lowered his gun.

"Mal," he said, looking confused.

"Put your gun back up, we don't know what's goin' on here," the man named Mal said.

He raised his gun as ordered, but there was no heart in it.

"Mal," he repeated.

"WHAT? I ain't got no time for blabberin', Andrew."

"Mal, I know her. She's- She's my best friend."

Mal looked at Andrew, slightly lowering his weapon.

"What the _d__ìyù_ are you talkin' about?"

"This is my friend that I told you about. The one I miss…" he trailed off for a second, then shook his head as if to clear it. "This is her. Chelsea. But how are you here?"

She looked at him, confused.

"Your guess is as good as mine. I was headed out to my car and suddenly I'm… here."

She suddenly understood.

"That's why there was no evidence. That's what happened to you," she said, realizing the situation more and more.

"Yep." He turned to the man in charge, Mal. "Can we, uh, stop pointing deadly weapons at her?"

Mal looked reluctant, but seemed to agree.

"Alright, guns down, we ain't gonna shoot 'er," Mal said.

Andrew rushed forward and took Chelsea in a tight hug.

"I missed you, Chel," he said simply.

"I missed you too," she said, face buried in the crook of his neck.

Mal cleared his throat.

The two broke apart, slightly flushed and embarrassed.

"I s'pose we'd better call a meetin', let the rest a' the crew know what's up."

"Crew? Are we on a ship?" Chelsea asked, her confusion growing.

She never received an answer; instead, she was led by Mal, the man and woman, and Andrew to a small, dimly lit kitchen/dining area. There was a long table lined with mismatched chairs. Mal walked over to a little com box on the wall. He pushed a button, and spoke into it.

"This is the Captain, there's a crew meetin' in the dinin' room now. Everyone down here, now."

"That include me, Mal?" asked a voice on the com.

"Yeah, you too Wash. Put _Serenity_ on auto."

Slowly people filtered into the dining room. There was a tall blonde man who sat next to the dark woman; a stately woman in fine clothes; a woman, a girl, really, with a sweet face and an easy smile; a dark haired, good looking man; a girl with dark stringy hair, about the same age as Chelsea and Andrew.

"What's this all about, Mal?" the elegant woman asked.

"I'll tell ya once everyone's settled down," the captain answered

Everyone took a seat. That's when they started noticing Chelsea.

"Who's she?"

"Stowaway?"

"You get hitched on accident again, Mal?"

Mal inhaled deeply.

"This is- what's your name again, anyway?"

"Chelsea. Listen, I don't know-"

The burly man with the cruel face pointed his gun at her.

"Shut up and let the cap'n talk."

"Jayne," Mal reprimanded, "Gun down. She's scared, I understand that. Let 'er be."

Jayne begrudgingly replaced his gun into its holster.

"She'll stay here for now, on the ship, 'til we can figure out what to do. You got something you can do that's anything useful for on a ship?"

"Um, like what kind of "useful things?'" She asked.

"Mechanics, medicine, cooking, stuff like that. I'm sure Kaylee er Simon could use some help, an' God knows we could use a decent cook," Mal said.

Chelsea sat and thought for a moment. The crew was staring at her, and it made her nervous.

"I-I can cook, to some degree, and I know a little bit of first aid."

The handsome young man seemed to approve of this. Mal considered this for a moment.

"Alright. You'll have your own bunk, and a small cut of the profits from our jobs. You'll cook two er three square meals a day, and help Simon when he needs it. You've got free run of the boat, so long as you don' get in anyone's way, 'specially mine. This all square with you?"

Chelsea processed this for a moment. Then she nodded.

"Yeah. I just have a question. Why can't you just take us home?" she asked, gesturing to Andrew.

For the first time, the crew looked away from her. They all looked at the floor, or the wall, or the ceiling. Something was wrong, and she was more confused and scared than ever before.

Andrew took a deep breath and hesitated.

"Chels," he said, putting his hand on her shoulder. "We can't go home. There's no way we can get there."

"Why?"

"We're in the year 2518. Earth is gone. And by ship, we mean "spaceship." We're in space."

Chelsea just sat there, eyes wide, mouth open.


	3. Chapter 3

She was blinking furiously and breathing heavily. The crew could practically see smoke coming out of her ears as she tried to process this news. Finally, she looked up at Andrew.

"Is this your idea of some kind of joke? Because this is really sick, Andrew," she said. "Dental flossing my car to my mailbox is one thing, but this, disappearing for a week and then- and then kidnapping me? This- this has gone way too far."

Chelsea was flustered and furious, talking animatedly with her hands.

"Chelsea, this isn't a joke! Do you really think that I think this would be funny? Do you really think that's the kind of person I am?"

"Then what the hell is this? Where are we? Because Outerspaceville, Far Future, really isn't an applicable address!"

Both Andrew and Chelsea were on their feet, shouting at each other over the table.

Mal slammed a fist down on the table.

"Gorramit, that's enough! If you two're just gonna fight, I'll throw you both off my boat before we dock. I don't wanna do that, but if you're upsettin' my crew, I can't have that." He looked from one to the other. "I think you both owe each other an apology."

The blonde man snorted. Mal looked at him.

"I'm sorry Mal, you're a great guy and all, but you apologizing is rare. You telling _others_ to apologize is priceless."

Mal glared back at him.

"Wash, do you wanna be off with them?"

The man named Wash shrugged.

Chelsea sat back down, but Andrew remained standing. Chelsea jumped as someone reached around her and set a steaming green mug on the table in front of her. She turned to see the elegant woman looking at her kindly.

"For your nerves. I hope you like Earl Grey."

"Thank you," Chelsea said, gratefully.

"I'm Inara."

"Hi," she said lamely.

"Andrew, why don't you take a seat, I'll make you a cup, too," Inara said. It wasn't so much as a suggestion as it was a command. Andrew sat down obediently.

Everyone was silent for what felt like a very long time. Chelsea looked up from her tea.

"I'm sorry, Andrew. I shouldn't have yelled at you, or assumed… I know you wouldn't do this to me, to anyone. I'm just having a very hard time believing any of this." She paused, and looked at the crew. "And, I'm sorry to all of you. I show up out of nowhere, and then throw a fit. Not a very good first impression, is it?" she smiled weakly.

The woman-girl smiled sweetly at her.

"That's ok, sweetie. You're scared, ain't nothin' wrong with that. I'm Kaylee."

Mal stood up.

"Alright, enough with the niceties, we got work to do. Simon, set up Book's old room for Chelsea."

He looked at Chelsea for a moment.

"Don't make yourself too comfortable. I ain't sure how long we'll be keepin' ya."

She nodded silently. The dark haired man, whom she took to be as Simon, stood and headed down the corridor to a lower area. She followed him down to a commons area. There were several sliding doors. They opened to small, but warm and inviting bedrooms.

The man laid out pillows and blankets on the empty bed. The walls were a perfectly flat, soft yellow, save for a few nail holes. He turned to look at her.

"So…" he said awkwardly, "how do you know about medicine?"

"There was a medicine class at my school, and a mandatory health class. We covered a lot of first aid in both of those classes. I excelled in it."

"I see. Were you… maybe considering it as a career?"

Chelsea shrugged.

"Maybe. I dunno. Possibly."

They stood awkwardly for a few moments, not looking at each other. He turned to leave, biting his lip.

"Hey, Simon?" Chelsea said, hoping she had gotten the name right.

He turned to look behind him.

"Thanks. For setting me up down here. I hope I'm not totally useless."

"I'm sure you won't be," he said with a gentle smile.

Chelsea sat down on her bed.

All she could do was think. How could this be happening? How did this work? Not an hour ago she had been going to her car, leaving her choir concert, and then she was on a goddamn spaceship. This was a disaster. True, she had found Andrew, but did it really matter if she would never have anyone else in her life that she had once loved? And would she even be able to stay here? The Captain didn't seem to like her very much, and had openly told her that she might be off on the next planet they stopped at….

A throat cleared at her door roused her from her reverie.

The Captain stood there, his pale blue eyes unsmiling.

"Captain?" She asked, a bit scared.

"I was thinkin' you ain't quite dressed for life on our ship," he said, gesturing to her outfit. Perhaps he was right. A deep blue polka dotted swing dress and supple congac leather slippers weren't exactly the best work clothes. He set a jumpsuit and t shirt down on the bed. "Kaylee's offered to let you borrow some of her clothes until you can get your own."

She picked them up. Rough, heavy duty canvas.

"That's very kind of her. I'll be sure to thank her."

Mal stood there, silent for a bit.

"We'll be touchin' down on Boros tomorrow. You'll be given a sum of money for buyin' food 'n the like. But seein' as you ain't done any work on this boat yet, you won't be getting' a paycheck. "

"I understand."

"You'll be needin' some new clothes though. My recommendation is that if'n you can part with any of those bits of precious you got with you, you can sell 'em. Boros is a poor planet, but there're a few there willin' to trade or buy somethin' pretty. I reckon that bracelet you got there'd fetch you a shirt n' pants, you bargain right. You'll need a few sets, n' some boots. The jacket you got'll work fine, but you'll prob'ly want a coat, 's well. Got any problems?"

Chelsea just shook her head. "No, captain. I'll see what I can do."

Mal just turned and left.

Chelsea set took off her jewelry and other accessories. A silver hair clip, a silver bangle, a silk scarf, sapphire earrings, a pearl necklace, and her shoes. Small things, but hopefully she'd be able to fetch some money for it.

"Hey sweetie," said yet another voice from the doorway. (Could Chelsea not get a moment alone to think?)

Kaylee was leaning on the door frame, her face lit up with her easy smile.

"I see the Cap'n brought you those clothes. I figured since we're about the same size, n' you ain't got nothin' but a dress, you could use 'em for a bit."

"Thanks," Chelsea said.

"Why you got your things all laid out?"

"The Captain wants me to buy some new clothes, but he's not giving me any money. He said I'd have to sell a few of my things. I can see where he's coming from. They're not the most practical things."

"I see." Kaylee pursed her lips and frowned. "Sweetie?"

Chelsea looked up at her.

"I know you're upset, and ya feel like no one wants ya here, but that ain't true. The cap'n takes a long time to warm up to people, 'n the same with Zoe n' Jayne. Simon don't got a problem with ya, neither does Wash or 'Nara. N' River… Well River's hard to tell with anyone. And you got your boy."

Chelsea looked up suddenly, an amused look on her face.

"My boy? Oh, Kaylee," she said, a real smile spearing across her face. "He's not my boy. Never has been, never will be."

The other woman looked at her with good natured skepticism.

"We'll see about that. Now, it's time for you to sleep. You gotta be tired, 'n we'll be touchin' down at about 7. It's roundabout 11 now, so get some shut eye."

Chelsea stood and gave Kaylee a hug. Kaylee seemed surprised, but returned it with surprising strength.

"Thank you Kaylee. For being so good to me, even when you had no reason to."

"Of course sweetie. Now sleep. Good night!"

"'Night Kaylee."

Kaylee slid the door shut behind her, and Chelsea laid back on the bed. She had meant to think. Instead, she fell asleep instantly.


End file.
